The Girl-Who-Loved
by StrawberryMoondust
Summary: While she lived, Luna played 3 similar characters to 3 different people. After she died, Luna represented 3 simple concepts to 3 complicated people. Years later, the memory of Luna helped send 3 best friends towards 3 different callings. Although she was not loved widely, she was loved deeply. Later, 3 books are written about her and the people whose lives she changed.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This was rattling around in my head recently, and is the first thing I've written in years. I don't claim to be great, but I hope you enjoy. Some of the quotes in here are from a book, though I won't say which one in here as to not spoil it for people who want to guess. I don't intend this to be long - 4 chapters.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own HP. I don't own some of the quotes.

* * *

 _'Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end. If not always in the ways we expect'._

* * *

While she lived, Luna Lovegood played 3 similar characters to 3 different people.

To Harry Potter, Luna was a light in the dark, the girl who helped him stay sane in the midst of the chaos that was his life. She was a gentle breeze across green grass, a rope swing across a creek, a sanctuary from the pain of his every day life. She blew into his world one day, wide eyed and different and oh-so-wonderful in her strangeness. They just clicked, and they helped one another.

Harry helped her to stay grounded, to make decisions regarding the here and now instead of getting lost in her dreams. She had that problem, you see - she liked to dream so much and so large that she sometimes couldn't bring herself to focus on her current life. Luna, well, she taught him to rise above it all and see things differently, to relax and forget his troubles. He had that problem, you see - he stressed and worried and thought of all the ways the world could end, and he sometimes couldn't bring himself to dream.

 _'Just close your eyes and keep your mind wide open,'_ she'd whispered to him as they sat next to one another in a window of the Astronomy tower and he tried, again, not to cry. _'Imagine a better tomorrow.'_ And with her, Harry did. And, thanks to her, one came. She was always good about things like that, knowing when they would pass and knowing just what to say to help. She was wise beyond her years.

 _('They hate me. RON hates me!' he cried to her once. 'He won't ever speak to me again!'_ _She hugged him then in sadness, and she hugged him with joy later when Ron was back at his side, and she had that smile like she knew all along.)_

That's not to say that Harry did not find Luna absurd at times, or think her naive. He looked at her askance sometimes when she mentioned some of her creatures. He shook his head bemusedly when she sent out anonymous valentines to the entirety of Hogwarts; she had sent them to all ages, all Houses, even the professors. Even Filch, who hated everyone and ripped his card up.

 _(and no one ever knew Filch kept the cards sent to Mrs. Norris and read them to her every Valentine's Day, proof that someone besides himself thought her beautiful and good. He pinned them on his wall, all of them tear-stained and wrinkled after her death, and there they'd stayed until his own.)_

She sent them even to the Slytherins, the firsties, and the cruel girls who hid her shoes in the winter and tripped her in the halls, their cold voices whispering 'loony, loopy Luna' as she picked herself up like it hadn't even phased her at all.

 _(More of them kept those cards than either Harry or Luna would ever have imagined.)_

Yes, Harry thought Luna a bit ridiculous in sending cards to and trying to befriend such bullies. He saw how the other Ravenclaws treated her, and he wondered why she bothered. She tried to pet Mrs. Norris and got an arm full of claw marks. She tried to make small talk with Peeves and ended up drenched in lake water. Yes, naive, but he loved her all the same.

 _(He never got to know just in what way he loved her, however. By the time he was old enough to have figured it out, she was long gone, and his memories of her were both rosy and sepia toned, heart-achingly painful, painted with a brush that had seen too much wear. But he always knew he did love her, whatever way it may have been.)_

That was why, after the first year he saw her making cards for all of Hogwarts, he was there to help. Sealing envelopes, writing names, tying parchment to owls, and helping her go over her list making sure not one single being was left out. He remembered a dark cupboard, a group of schoolchildren laughing when he was picked last, Dudley's shoe painful against his back and the taste of dirt, and Harry thought maybe, just maybe, he understood.

* * *

Hermione... Well, she never understood it. Much as her cared for her and loved her (a sister, he knew for sure), she was too different from his Luna. She was grounded, logical, straight-laced, and unintentionally cold in a way, because as much as she had been isolated herself as a child, she had not been hurt by life the same as he and Luna had.

And so she tried so hard to convince Luna that it wasn't worth her time, the anonymous valentines. That it was silly, ridiculous, verging on emotionally self-harming even. Luna, bless her, told Hermione that _'someone has to love and look out for them. I know how it can hurt to be left out, to not ever receive any kindness. Someone should give them that. Why not me?'_

 _'That's not your job, though,'_ she had said, exasperated. _'You're just a child, Luna, you should leave it to the professors, or their friends, God, what have you!'_

 _'But Hermione, what if they're like me? I mean.. There's no way to know, after all.'_ A blank stare, a pregnant and dangerous pause. _'I don't know that I believe in God, you see.'_

The divide between muggleborn and raised-magical had never felt quite so large, deep, or dangerous at that moment. 'God', well. That wasn't a concept with a lot of wizarding kind. How could it be, after all, when you knew your ancestors were burned alive for being born the way 'god' supposedly made them? But the muggleborns were usually raised with deep-seated convictions, and maybe she didn't MEAN to say it, maybe she didn't think before she spoke

 _(but it was Hermione, she ALWAYS thought before speaking, or anything else)_

 _'Well that's ridiculous, Luna, even for you! I mean, of all things! You believe in all these stupid creatures, these ridiculous things that DON'T EXIST and you have no proof of, and you tell me that you somehow don't believe in God?'_

 _'Hermione,'_ Harry interjected uneasily _, 'let it go, would you? It's harmless.'_

 _'Harmless? Harry, Luna, nothing bad happens if you don't believe in your stupid imaginary creatures! If you don't believe in God, He damns you to Hell!'_

Harry had never seen Luna look so shaken, so taken aback. He thought that nothing could ruffle her, and he was shocked to see her eyes suddenly fill with tears.

 _'I-if you go to Hell for not believing, even if you're a good person... I suppose at least I'll see my mum again, then.'_

* * *

Even after all the times Hermione apologized, after all of the times Luna accepted it and told her it was forgiven, Harry never was sure. He had realized, then, that Luna wasn't so naive after all, and there were some things you just couldn't let bounce off of you. Some things you couldn't let go.

Harry was raised differently; the Durselys never put much stock in God or church, only doing so when it placed them in a position to be above others or to show how 'good' and 'pious' they were. He didn't have the same convictions Hermione did; in fact, he thought he might lean closer to Luna's thinking. He meant to discuss it with her, to learn more, but she was gone before he had the chance, and he was left with a seed of doubt.

What if Hermione was right?

 _(it's Hermione, Hermione is always right, why does she always have to be right?)_

But...it was LUNA, how could someone like her possibly be in Hell? How could someone so good, so pure, be doomed for eternity just because she didn't believe the 'right' things and trust in the 'right' book with no proof? How could anyone do that to her?

* * *

It was Ginny, of all people, who helped the most.

She was the youngest of 7, she'd always been a bit closer to her dad, always made more time for his 'silly muggle things'. Molly, she wasn't one for religion. But Arthur? Well, if it's muggle, he's learned about it. He'd never put much stock in it, himself, but he'd read the Bible, and he'd shared it with his daughter. Ginny may not have believed in all of it herself, but after Harry came to her with his worries about Luna, she did her best to learn more. Ginny read, she questioned, she spoke with her father, and then she realized the answer.

 _(Hermione wasn't ALWAYS right, in fact recently she had been very, very wrong)_

Ginny rubbed Harry's arm comfortingly. _'It's_ _ **Luna**_ _,'_ she told Harry, teary-eyed but smiling. _'If there's a God up there, I can't imagine He would be so unfair. If he's real, even if she didn't believe, he'd let her in. And you know what? He'd be damned honored to have met her.'_

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope this was okay - I haven't written in many, many years, so I'm pretty rusty. Things tend to go wrong between my brain and my keyboard; beautiful stories in my mind turn into garbage on my screen, and I hope I mostly avoided that this time.

I don't really intend to go into detail on how/when/why Luna died - just the effects it had on the main 3. Just know that it was unexpected, horrible, awful, scary, and unfair, however she died. No one expected it. Feel free to speculate or make up your own theories on how it happened if you wish, because I really have no clue! I'd say she was around 14-15 when she died, making the Trio 15-16ish (or 16-17 in Hermione's case).

Please review.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I decided to go ahead and post the next chapter, despite this not being very well liked at all. I already have it all written, so it will all be going up, and maybe it will help me get some idea of how to be a better writer. Some of the quotes in here are from a book, though I won't say which one in here as to not spoil it for people who want to guess.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own HP. I don't own some of the quotes.

* * *

'If _you don't believe in God, He damns you to Hell!'_

 _'... I suppose at least I'll see my mum again, then.'  
_

* * *

After she died, Luna Lovegood represented 3 simple concepts to 3 complicated people.

To Hermione Granger, Luna was regret. She was the time Hermione failed, the time she let herself become the bully instead of the bullied. Hermione looked back on her memories of Luna, eyes red and watery, muscles weak and shaking, and remembered how Hogwarts treated the girl just for the sin of being herself.

The day was hot - hotter than it had any right to be at such a time of year. It was sweaty, chafing, uncomfortable, and Hermione was glad for it. She felt as if the world were punishing them all for the things they had said, done, let happen to such a child. She thought about her visit to Xenophilius Lovegood, him asking her, Harry, and Ron to speak at the funeral. She thought about seeing Luna's bedroom, the painting of Hermione in it alongside others, and the beautiful gold lettering surrounding the photos proudly proclaiming 'friends, friends, friends'. Hermione felt ill.

 _'We wanted to define her,'_ Hermione said, standing at the funeral podium, _'to wrap her up as we did each other, but we couldn't seem to get past "weird" and "strange" and "goofy." Her ways knocked us off balance. After all, why fit in if you're born to stand out?'_

Almost directly in front of her, Hermione saw Xenophilius take his eyes off of the casket for the first time in over an hour and a half. He hadn't looked up when Harry had spoken, or when the Headmaster or Professor Flitwick has. He hadn't said a word to anyone since the funeral began, and other than his own eulogy, he likely wouldn't speak to anyone after.

 _(How Hermione wished she had never been asked to speak! She couldn't do it justice, she couldn't describe Luna in the way she deserved. She was wrong, wrong, wrong about it all, and oh, how she wished Luna were still here!)_

They had been fire and ice, water and oil.. and maybe, though she didn't know it at the time, yin and yang. Luna could well have become the sister that Hermione had always wanted, if only she had LISTENED more and given her a chance. Had she opened her mind some, been more welcoming to some of Luna's slightly...eclectic thinking, they could have become the best of friends. But it was too late for that now.

 _'She played by her own rules,'_ Hermione continued, clutching her handkerchief tightly, _'but the thing is, those rules were always fair and full of ways to help others.'_

The bright teal robes Hermione was wearing hurt her eyes, and they likely showed severe sweat stains, but she couldn't bring herself to care. At any rate, they were easier to look at than some of the members sitting out across from the casket - day-glo oranges, lime greens, hot pinks...some all on the same person. Unlike the mourners, not a single robe was drab or quiet.

It was how Luna would have wanted it.

 _'We...Hogwarts. None of us played by those same rules, and we should have. It wouldn't have been hard, it wouldn't have hurt us to not hurt her. And I know the things I did and said aren't even close to how some of them treated her, but I want to hate myself for them all the same._

 _'I say that I 'want to' hate myself. I did, for a long time. But then, I stopped, because of her._

 _'I learned a lot from Luna, and I wish it hadn't been too late to learn more. Most of all, I learned that if you start by hating one or two people, even yourself, you won't be able to stop. A little hatred goes a long, long way. You keep feeding it more and more people, and the more it gets, the more it wants. It's never satisfied. And pretty soon it squeezes all the love out of your heart._

 _'I guess all that love Hogwarts got rid of had to go somewhere, though, because Luna had more of it in her heart than anyone I've ever met.'_

Hermione stepped down from the little podium shakily and managed to offer a bleak smile for Ron when he stepped up to help her back to her chair. She grabbed his hand and held it tightly, but he didn't complain. He didn't try to look away, or hide his own red eyes, or act like he wasn't effected. He had grown up. It was sudden, and in large part because of circumstances, and Hermione was starting to think that maybe she loved him.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Ron squeezed back and caught her eye with a small smile, sad but proud, and they didn't look away from one another for a long time, not until Xenophilius reached the podium and cleared his throat.

* * *

 _'My daughter... is dead, and everything is worse now.'_ Despite his words, his voice came out strong and steady. _'It's no one here's fault, really, despite what they may think. She wouldn't blame anyone for it, not even-'_

Xenophilius let out a long sigh and slid his eyes over the attendees - most of Hogwarts was there. All of the professors, Filch, the ghosts,

 _(even Moaning Myrtle, floating in the back and, for once, crying softly.)_

 _('When I die,' Luna said to her, 'I'll try to find you, and I'll stay as much as I can, and then maybe you can go with me. No one should be alone'.)_

and the house elves and almost all of the students from every house, minus some who were just too young to understand or stomach such a thing.

 _'My Luna... well, I saw her more than most other people got to, I think. She wasn't a mythical being, she wasn't unbreakable. She was all that all of you have said and more, but she was also less. She was a person. She was named for the moon, but her head and her heart belonged to the stars. She laughed when there was no joke, she danced when there was no music, and when she cried..she cried not tears, but light._

 _She didn't hate, she didn't judge, and she always helped. Long after her mum died, after I had been sick and miserable and not a very good father to her for awhile, I asked her if she was mad. I told her it was okay to judge me poorly for how I had been, and she...she told me that you can't always judge people by the things they've done. You've got to judge them by what they're doing now. She was always living in the now, and she was always forgiving and full of love._

 _For the longest time, she had no friends - yet, she was the friendliest person in Hogwarts. She was a miracle. The trouble with miracles is, they don't last long. She's gone now, and everything is worse. Who are you if you lose your favorite person? I reach for my Luna and she's gone. I'm...I'm not me anymore. Each night, I lie down in a graveyard of memories, and moonlight spins a shroud about me.'_

He was seconds from breaking down now, Hermione could see. Without prompting, Ron shifted in his chair and got ready to help Xeno back down. After all, who else was left to help the poor old man?

 _'I want her back, even though I know she'll always be with me. Everything beautiful brings her to mind. I see her in the dirigible plums that grow in the garden by my house. I see her in the robins that sing in the trees. I hear her laugh in the wind. But Merlin, I want her back.'_

He was done, and Ron helped him away.

And Hermione thought of regret.

* * *

 **A/N:** I'd put the funeral around the same time frame as her death, perhaps 2-3 weeks after. I made references in this chapter to another book (different than referenced in chapter 1, as well as Bojack Horseman and Katniss' speech about Rue in The Hunger Games - did you spot them?

I just wanted to point out that the 'whole religion thing' isn't a major plot point, nor will it ever be mentioned or useful again. I just needed it to relate the first chapter to the book it was loosely mirroring, and Hermione (ever-rude to Luna and somehow disbelieving in her creatures despite finding out MAGIC IS REAL) seemed the best person to carry it out.


End file.
